


I don't have to sell my soul

by quietwandering



Category: Oasis (Band), The Smiths
Genre: First Time, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietwandering/pseuds/quietwandering
Summary: He's already in me
Relationships: Johnny Marr/Morrissey, Noel Gallagher/Johnny Marr
Comments: 30
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My good god, the amount of time it took me to write this, you guys. There were three different, full written drafts of this, and I'm still not sure it's any good. Jeevey is basically the co-writer of this, and she is an actual hero to me and is such an incredibly good editor, I cannot even begin to tell you. I will never be able to thank her enough. Thank you so much. 
> 
> Sorry if I change anything major as I'm just posting this, and I'll handle any grammatical problems later on when I'm not exhausted. 
> 
> Title is [I Wanna be Adored](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4D2qcbu26gs) by The Stone Roses

"Thank you, and good night to you all."

I stood with my heart in my throat as Morrissey and Johnny walked off stage with the others. That was it. That was the whole set. I had saved for weeks to afford coming to this gig, and they didn't even bother to play _This Charming Man_ , even though my mate said they did it last week and not to worry. God, I was fucking _furious_.

So I waited for the venue to clear out a bit and snuck my way back to the dressing room, pocketing anything valuable looking along the way. There was about a dozen or so people milling about with clipboards and other such gubbins, but no one bothered to stop and ask me what the fuck I was doing, thank god. I'd not have an answer for them, that was for bloody sure. 

When the cluster of guitar techs and roadies around Johnny finally thinned out, I managed to come up behind him and pull him into a storage closet - which, in hindsight, was probably not too smart of an idea as Johnny immediately turned to deck me right in the stomach, looking righteously pissed off. 

“Just what the _fuck_ do you think you’re _doing_?” Johnny shouted, right into my bloody ear, too, christ, and I just barely dodged the next blow. I tried to back him up in a corner, to pin him down or something, but Johnny was easily able to hook a leg behind me and shoulder me to the floor. He was on me an instant, ready to throttle me, when he suddenly froze up, looking confused. “What...what’re you...You’re just a fuckin’ _kid._ ” 

“Oh, piss right off, mate,” I grumbled. This had all gone tits up so fast, god. “I’m 18, me. What’re you? About 12 I’d say.” 

Johnny laughed so loud it startled me. “Yeah? You fuckin’ shoved me in here just to take the piss outta me? Is that it?” 

“No, I shoved you the fuck in here because you played a shit gig, and I want my £10 fuckin’ quid back.” I crossed my arms to look a bit more serious, but that didn’t seem to work too well with Johnny staring down at me, still smiling. "Y-you...you didn't even bloody _play_ it."

"Well, I'm sorry we didn't play _...it_ , I guess. We gotta change stuff up sometimes, y'know?" Johnny said as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. I hauled myself up with a nearby shelf only to slip in some foul smelling puddle of cleaner and land right back on my ass. Johnny started to giggle again, leaning back against the door to steady himself, and I felt another jolt of fury go through me - god, I fuckin’ _hated_ being laughed at. 

“I’m not pissin’ about, me. I’m bloody serious!” 

“Oh, I’m sure you are, mate. What’s your name, huh?”

Johnny helped me to my feet, though I was loathe to take his hand, and I aggressively wiped my shoe off on a nearby mop. “‘M Noel Gallagher, and I’m here to fuckin’ tell you that if you’re not gonna bother playing _This Charming Man_ then you shouldn’t release it as a fuckin’ single.” 

“Is that right?” Johnny said, and I watched blankly as he pulled his fags out along with a £10 pound note. “Well... _Noel Gallagher_. Here y’are - ‘s that better?” The cheeky cunt actually had the gall to actually tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans, but I was on the dole and not about to tell him to keep his fuckin' money even though I desperately wanted to. I also couldn’t help but notice he didn't take his hand off my arse which...probably didn't mean anything, really, so I ignored it. “How about...you come hang out with me on the bus, huh? I’ll make it up to you.” 

I scratched nervously at the back of my neck and tried to wipe off some of the sweat that had built up there. It was fucking boiling in here, and, god - the closer Johnny stood to me the hotter it felt for some reason. “Yeah? Well. I...I s’ppose,” I replied. I couldn't stop staring at the small clumps in his mascara. All those picture perfect magazine covers didn’t really convey how...how _attractive_ Johnny looked this close up, but I quickly pushed that thought right back down to wherever it came from and tried to put a more stern expression back on my face. “I guess that’d make up for it...alright, so. Lead the way.”

Johnny smiled again, a bit knowingly, as he lit his cigarette, and I had to look away. It was making me feel lightheaded, and I wasn’t ready to think about why that might be, though I...I had known why for a long time. I just found it easier to pretend otherwise. 

We made our way outside to the bus, Johnny pausing to chat to a few people along the way, and I was introduced as one of the new roadies. No one seemed to really care one way or the other, they just waved and proceeded to ignore me, which was fine, honestly - as Johnny kept brushing his hand against mine every couple of seconds, and I couldn't seem to think about anything else anyways (it was probably nothing...no, it definitely didn’t mean anything, I was sure of it). 

I was surprised to see the bus was empty when we arrived, but Johnny explained everyone else had opted to stay at a nearby hotel. He had planned to work on a song that night though and didn’t want to keep everyone up. “Mozzer gets pretty saucy if he doesn’t get his beauty rest an’ all.” 

I laughed at the stupid face Johnny made afterward and let myself be led around the bus for an impromptu tour, being shown the world’s tiniest bog and the cluster of guitars Johnny had stowed in the back lounge. It was honestly more spacious than I’d thought, but it was still hard to imagine living in here with three or four other people. 

“Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower but feel free to hang out. I’ll be just a minute.” Johnny shoved back the curtain to his bunk and gestured for me to take a seat, though, really, with how high up it was, the best I could do was crawl in and scoot myself up against the pillows. 

I flipped the light on and curiously dug through the vast number of books crammed in the corner. There was a lot of stuff I didn't understand, like philosophy and poetry and other such shite, but I was excited to see a copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - it had always been one of my favorites, and Liam loved when I read him the part about the missiles turning into sperm whales and petunias.

There was also this small guitar leaned against the far corner, and I found myself unable to resist checking it out. I tugged it into my lap and strummed a few open chords (not that I knew the name of any, but still). I was amazed at how nice it sounded. The fretboard was pretty cramped, but it didn’t hurt my hands too bad - my hands were about as small as my feet anyways, according to Liam, so I guess it all worked out. I was able to strum all the way through most of _I Am the Walrus_ before Johnny was back from the shower, clambering into the bunk beside me, wearing nothing but a ratty pair of fuckin' boxers, god.

“You play?!” Johnny asked, and I managed to nod. My face felt overly warm, and a few beads of sweat had started up at the back of my neck again. “Cool. How long’ve you been playin’?” 

“Um...since I was about 11, I guess. I dunno,” I said. My voice sounded strained so I nervously cleared my throat and sat the guitar back in the far corner. “I wasn’t really able to buy strings until a few years ago.” 

That is to say, I wasn’t confident enough to nick them until a few years ago, but that didn’t seem important enough to bring up. Johnny rested a hand on my knee as he reached across me and tugged open a small compartment. I couldn’t see much of what was inside, but the musty smell clued me in well enough.

Johnny pulled out a bag of shrooms after a few minutes and tugged one out for the both of us. They looked much better than the ones I sat and ate in the park sometimes, huge and dusky brown but still just as bitter. I coughed a little trying to swallow it down, but thankfully Johnny was willing to share a bottle of water he had dug out from... _somewhere_. Who the fuck knew, really.

“So, _This Charming Man_ , huh?” Johnny asked, settling back against the pillows. He tugged the blankets over our legs, which was a relief in some ways, but now the only thing I could focus on was how fuckin’ warm he felt pressed against me and the way he kept nonchalantly bumping our feet together. 

“Y-yeah,” I answered. I had started to rub at my lips to help calm myself down only to realize that probably made me look like a fuckin’ idiot and immediately dropped my hands down into my lap. “I, um...I like it. A lot. My mate said you all played it just last week so I don’t get what the fuckin’ problem was. You played _Hand in Glove_ two bloody times.” 

“Mm,” Johnny murmured, staring down at my hands. I’d almost ripped off my entire thumbnail without realizing, and he turned to pull a pack of fags out from under his pillow. “Y’want one?” I nodded, appreciative for something to do with my hands. “It’s funny. Moz wrote that after I fucked him in the backseat of my Mercedes one night. Had the riff playing on a cassette for him and everything, and he just sat there...writing it on the back of a postcard.”

A choked up noise slipped out of me by accident, my cock twitching as I pictured it. There had been so many nights I'd spent staring at the two of them hanging all over one another, ashamed of the way I imagined Morrissey's hand slipping a little lower, down into Johnny's jeans and around his cock. Fuck, to think that it might all be real, that Johnny...that Johnny might like blokes, too - that was…

“Aren’t...aren’t you married or summat?” I asked, taking a long drag of the cigarette as Johnny fished out a makeshift ashtray from the nearby compartment. It looked like an empty tin of mints or something but reeked of weed, and I took a second to ash my cigarette in it - god, my fuckin’ hands were shaking like I was sitting here being wooed on prom night. _Do you wanna come back to my place, Suzie_?

“I s’ppose so, yeah,” Johnny answered, his voice a bit rougher. He had hooked his leg over mine, and I was starting to see a few spots of color in my periphery. The blanket felt impossibly heavy, almost suffocating, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Johnny had to pull the cigarette from my fingers and stub it out for me, and I could hear every slight bend of his fingers. “Y’wanna know something though?” 

I shifted my eyes over only to immediately need to look away again. Johnny had leaned in so close I could feel his mouth against my ear, and it was so fuckin’ _hot_. I tried to open my mouth to say something, anything really, but nothing came out - just a slight croak. God, I was this fuckin’ eager to roll over for a bloke after all. Just like Da said. I had a brief moment where I imagined that I might still be lying on the floor unconscious, Liam wailing for me to wake up, but Johnny’s hand was warm and heavy on my throat, and intensely fuckin’ real. 

“She likes to watch.” 

Johnny flipped the light off, and that was it - his mouth was on mine, and I fuckin’...I _wanted_ it. I wanted it so fuckin’ bad. I wanted everything Johnny could give me. My hands were finally able to grab onto Johnny’s shoulders, way too tight, and he rolled onto my lap like he wanted it just as much as me, with the blankets shoved as far back as either of us could manage. “Fuck - _fuck_.” 

My heart slammed in my chest as Johnny tugged my jumper off, my shirt. I wasn’t able to focus on anything other than the way his hands touched me. Sparks of color flew off the tips of his fingers, bright as a firecracker, and I’d no fuckin’ idea what to do with myself. Diane sometimes liked me to rub her chest - her _tits_. I’d not been able to bring myself to do much with her for reasons I still didn’t like to think about, but I wanted - I wanted to touch Johnny so badly. But where did I even fucking start? 

Leaning back a little, Johnny yanked the curtain closed, and it was suddenly like we were in a world all our own. There was just his arms around me, his lips on mine, and the feel of our hips rolling together. God, and when the shrooms fully kicked in there was a psychedelic explosion all around us - just this warm, blissful array of bright colors and shapes that made my eyes feel like a kaleidoscope. Like I was swimming through the Sea of Green in the _Yellow Submarine_ movie.

I wasn't sure how Johnny managed to get my trousers off, or when he’d taken off his pants - I was so far gone, floating endlessly above the clouds, every part of me shifting restlessly for something I didn’t really understand. I just wanted Johnny to keep pressing his tongue against mine, and I wanted to fuckin’ _come_ and maybe see what it’d be like if Johnny came, too. 

"I want you to fuck me so bad, I…" Johnny murmured, his eyes so big I thought they would eclipse his whole face. He was beautiful. He was beyond beautiful. He was the formation of the universe to me. He was everything. 

"Yeah. Yes, okay." My voice sounded so far away, but I could feel the way his nails dug into my back, and I could feel the way his sweat dripped down onto my face, each drop as bright as a meteor shower. There was no doubt I was right here, that _Johnny_ was right here, on top of me and all over me, all at once, and I was so desperate. "H-how do I...how do you do it?"

Johnny's smile made all the colors around us seem dim. It was blinding, like a sunrise in the late winter months after a heavy snow. I kissed him because I needed to and sighed when he reached for something outside my immediate line of sight, which was filled with him and nothing else.

"Y'gotta slick me up, right? So I can be good and wet for you...just like a lass. Here - yeah, gimme yer hand."

I didn’t mention anything about how I’d not fucked any lasses, that I’d no idea how it’d felt to fuck anything other than my left hand, and sometimes my right one. It was easier that way, really, easier to pretend I wasn’t a fuckin’ queer that got off on thinking about other blokes as I could just hide under my blankets and not have to look Diane in the eye when I wouldn't take my shirt off. 

Reality shifted back into focus as a sticky gel was poured all over my fingers. It was cold and slippery, but then Johnny was pulling my hand down to somewhere much warmer. "Is...am I? Am in you?"

"Almost, almost," Johnny panted. His head was leaned back, and his neck looked so...so fragile and beautiful, graceful, like a fuckin’... _swan_. I leaned in to kiss it, to worship it, as my fingers slid in and out with an obscene noise and, fuck, I could feel Johnny tightening up around me every time I brushed past this...this one part of him again and again. He was breathing so loud, feverishly rubbing his nose and his mouth against my eyebrows, all while these soft, little whines were coming out of him, and I was burning. Every part of me was _burning_. 

My hand was pulled away, and my dick was slathered in some more of that uncomfortably cold gel before Johnny slid himself down onto me. It was only at that moment I realized I must be fucking into Johnny's arse as, well...blokes didn't exactly have quims, did they? So I had to be going in the other way. That should've made me feel disgusted, but I just wanted more - more of everything, more of anything. I wanted this to never, ever stop. I wanted to be inside Johnny for the rest of time in this hidden world all our own, far away from my dead end job and my deadbeat Da. 

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, Noel. Push your hips up, move. Come on."

I blinked back to reality for a moment and clumsily rocked my body up. Johnny nearly fell over so I tried again with a bit less force, and that worked a whole lot better seemingly. The cramped space made everything the slightest bit more difficult though. I couldn't put my feet on the bed without my knees knocking on the top of the bunk so I had to just bounce my hips up.

"Oh god, oh god, that's good. That's good." Johnny's face was buried in my neck, his grunts and sighs making my toes curl. I didn't even know if my eyes were open anymore, if I was even in the same realm of existence - I was just floating in this glistening sea of color and sound, and if I came I'd never know. The pleasure never ebbed, it just got more intense. I could've fucked him for _hours_.

Eventually Johnny rolled off me, panting and gasping as he came against my hip in a sticky splatter. He clutched at me like a lifeline, and I felt a stupid smile on my face when I realized we were both drooling like idiots. "Yer mouth is all wet, Johnny. It's wet and mine's wet, too."

Johnny looked up at me suddenly like he just realized I was there, but then smiled back at me, snapping a few lines of spit that had been stuck to my shoulder. "Yer Noel, right? Noel Gallagher?"

"I think so, yeah. Most times anyways. I'm fuckin' celestial right now though. Absolutely...absolutely _mad_ fer it." I didn’t know why I was suddenly laughing, but it felt good, it felt like I could say anything, do anything, that I wanted right then. I was an untouchable fuckin’ _god_ among mankind, and I was resting underneath Zeus himself in a sea of green, sea of green...

"You're gonna be a big rockstar one day, y'know?" Johnny said excitedly, breaking through my reverie. “I fuckin’ see it. I see it all up here.” Johnny tapped my forehead and wiggled his toes against me. “Noel, you’re gonna be fuckin’... _mega_.” 

I threw my arm across my eyes and let out a long sigh, imagining it for a moment - me and my fuckin’ busted up guitar and my shitty notebook that was filled with Liam’s crayon scribbles of us and my stupid fuckin'... _poems,_ god. "Yeah, well. _Obviously_. I'm...I’m gonna write some of the best fuckin' songs ever. That's a fuckin' fact, innit?"

"Yeah...yeah, I think so," Johnny whispered, all sage-like and serious with a glint in his eye. His hand had moved between my legs and started to squeeze at my balls some. It didn't take long for a few spurts of come to leak out onto my belly, and I moaned when he leaned down to clean up the mess. His tongue was so warm, and when it brushed against my cock I came again - though it was dry this time. I seemed to be totally wiped out.

"'S that...does that taste good?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me as Johnny wiped at his mouth, strings of spit popping and stretching along the back of his fingers. I tried to help but ended up just rubbing my thumb along the slight bit of stubble he had on his chin - bloody hell, it felt fuckin’ _amazing_. 

"Do you wanna find out?" Johnny whispered. His mouth curved up in a devilish way as he leaned in close. There was still come on his tongue ( _my_ come, it couldn't be anyone else's), and I shivered as I swallowed it down, clutching at his shoulder. I was just like one of those girls all the lads talked about in the locker room, a proper slag. 

I shut my eyes, at least I think I did - well, I bloody _must_ 've because when my eyes opened again there was just the bleary ceiling of the bunk above me and not an infinite universe of color and sound. I swallowed but my mouth was painfully dry, so I pushed up on my elbow to take a look around. Johnny was asleep in the opposite direction, still naked with his head on a copy of _Meditations in an Emergency_ , and, fuck, _I_ was naked, too. With a bloke...fuck. _Fuck_.

I found my pants and pulled them on after a bit of difficulty - they'd been trapped underneath Johnny's leg, and there was so little room in here I could hardly tug them free. The rest of my clothes were just under my own arse, thank fuck. After I got dressed, I rolled over him and out of the bunk - right into...into Andy Rourke. Their bassist. "Oh -" 

"Piss off," I snapped, trying to figure out if my shoes were nearby. I couldn't see them and was ready to just give up when Johnny pulled back the curtain of his bunk, squinting at me then at Andy.

"Where're you off to, Noel?" Johnny asked, far too casually - as if random blokes were always rolling out of his bunk and bumping into his band mates at the fuckin’ crack of dawn or whatever, but...maybe they did, god. I didn’t fuckin’ know.

I finally shrugged since I couldn’t think of anything to say, ignoring the weird look Andy kept giving me. My neck itched, like when I forgot to shave for a few days, but when I scratched at the spot something dry and flaky crumbled off onto the floor. "Dunno. Gonna catch a bus or summat, I guess."

"Andy -" 

The bassist lifted his hand to cut Johnny off, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. We're about to get breakfast. He can come with," Andy said, quickly turning to walk away as I scratched another spot under my chin. Fuck...I was pretty sure it was come by the looks of it. "Maybe just...wash up first."

"You got it," Johnny shouted, and I finally spotted my trainers. I was gonna put them on, but Johnny yanked me back into the bunk before I could. 

For some reason I wanted to tell him to piss off, as well. I thought it make me feel less ashamed of myself - because I...fuck, was I really a queer? Just like Da said? I must be. Because I didn’t pull away when Johnny leaned in to kiss me, even though his breath was sour and he smelled something awful. I just held onto him and let him slip me his tongue - it was rough and demanding, and it made me feel like I was floating a hundred miles above the earth. 

"We've got time, yeah?" I had no idea, and I didn’t think I cared one way or the other, so I just shrugged and let Johnny tug me down next to him, let him run his mouth down the side of my neck and lick at another one of those dry, flaky spots of come. "So then tell me all about all these songs you're gonna write, Noel Gallagher - and then maybe...I'll tell you about mine."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter of this ridiculous ship. Jeevey is such an actual godsend. I don't know how I'd ever finished this without her. She motivates me like nothing else. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

"Oh, piss right off."

Johnny stared me down from across the table, and I angrily stabbed my fork into the eggs. Just eggs! And _toast_. God, what a fucking sham excuse for a breakfast. I should've known better than to expect a full English, with me just being an easy notch in Johnny's bedpost and all, but surely no man could survive on such a piss poor excuse of a meal.

At least I wasn't bloody paying for it though. A free meal didn't come often outside the holidays so I'd not kick up too much of a fuss about it, though I did wonder if I could get any of this back home to Liam. The kid was probably halfway through a pack of biscuits by now, completely ignoring the stuff mam had put in the fridge for us a few days ago. He'd have starved if I wasn't around to force feed him a bloody vegetable once in a while.

As I finished scooping up the last few bits of egg, I settled back in my chair and listened to a few of the conversations the roadies were having with one another. They were all talking about the upcoming show and how the weather would be on the drive down - mostly because a few of the vans might not make it if there was a significant amount of snow on the road. They needed to decide how they'd be able to announce a postponement if that happened, seeing as there'd probably not be a way to contact anyone if they had to pull over. Johnny suggested they maybe call the venue before they headed out and tell them that if they didn't arrive when expected to go ahead and book them the next night, which seemed agreeable to most everyone aside from a very pissed off looking Morrissey, who was sat at an adjacent table nearby.

I found it fascinating to see the way a band actually functioned though - there was so much that went on behind the scenes and an endless number of people required to make it all happen. I never thought about doing anything other than playing my guitar, really - but I could easily imagine myself out on the road with a band someday, maybe even writing my own songs when I wasn't hauling stuff around or having slightly boring conversations after a miserable breakfast.

"...Noel? Y'alright?"

I glanced up from my plate and realized Johnny was gesturing towards the waitress next to us, impatiently holding a pitcher of orange juice next to my glass. I nodded at her and waved for her to go ahead, and, really, I should've not continued to stare at her after that, but her tits were just about to bust out of her top and my dick seemed to be trying to figure out if it liked that or not. 

Johnny gave me a kick under the table, and I immediately looked away, more than aware the waitress was giving me a dirty look. I mumbled an apology as she walked away, but there wasn't a chance she actually heard it. Sighing, I sunk back into my chair and started to anxiously rub at my mouth, not caring if Johnny saw or not anymore. Fuck.

"You oughta ask her out before you start giving her the eye like that, y'know?" Johnny mumbled, smirking at me over his glass of water. I shrugged and picked at some dead skin on my lower lip, not sure how to explain that I was trying to decide if I was really queer or not - or was I half queer? It seemed a lot to think about this early in the bloody morning. "She was fit though, I'll give you that."

"Dunno, she was alright, I guess. I'm...well, you're pretty fit, too, s'all." I struggled to say things like that to anyone, as I wasn't some sopping girl, but...I guess if I'd already had my dick in him and all I could at least admit I found him easy on the eyes - it's not like I'd be telling him about all the pictures I had stuffed under my mattress. _Some of them are even a bit stuck together, y'know?_

"Oh, y'think I'm fit, huh?" Johnny whispered, batting his eyelashes at me like a bird, and I about rolled my eyes clear into orbit. A loud clatter caused us both to look over though, startled, and I quickly realized it'd been Morrissey slamming his fork down. He seemed to be even more pissed off now, judging by the look he was giving me, but I figured it wasn't my place to say anything, even though I wondered if I was the reason he was throwing such a fit. 

So I told Johnny I was going for a piss and made my way towards the toilets at the back of the diner. It was a private one, to my immense relief, as my stomach had been cramping all morning, but when I turned to lock the door someone came barging through, nearly knocking me over. 

"What the _fuck_ -"

Morrissey was now suddenly in front of me, crowding me back against the wall with a rather pissy look on his face. I'd say he almost looked a little menacing - but, really, after the amount of beatings I took from Da, I wasn't about to be intimidated by a man wearing a bright pink blouse with little white hearts all over it. Still, I shifted on my feet a little and relaxed my hands just to be on the safe side. Morrissey was a lot taller than me, and maybe even a bit stronger, but I was way more familiar with throwing punches, that was for sure.

"You need to go home."

It took a few minutes for me to register what he'd just said, not entirely sure if I'd heard him right - because...what the fuck did that even mean? We were in the toilets, and he was blocking the fuckin' door, so how the fuck was I meant to _go home_ exactly? And, more importantly, why the fuck should I? "I think I'll do whatever the fuck I want actually, so if you don't mind - I'm needing to take a piss now."

Morrissey was suddenly much closer, which I didn't think was even possible, and I tried to force myself to just shove the bastard out of the goddamn way, but…I was a little overwhelmed by how intent he looked, his wide blue eyes were almost crystalline, unlike my own, which seemed almost a cloudy gray at times. Dull and glossy. "You need to go home right now."

"Well, I'm not gonna," I retorted, finally shouldering him out the way. I didn't give too much of a fuck one way or the other if he saw me taking a piss, I just really needed to _go_ , and I wasn't gonna be frightened off by a flower swinging dandy boy, no matter how much I liked his bloody songs. 

I'd hardly unzipped my trousers when I felt Morrissey suddenly press up behind me, making my chest feel a little tight. I tried to shrug him off at first, but he wrapped his arms around me to anchor himself in place, with his legs on either side of me to make sure I couldn't go anywhere. My cock jumped a little, interested in any warm body willing to give me the time of day, but I'd had one too many revelations last night already and wasn't ready for anymore right then, that was for sure - I just wanted to be left the fuck alone, but Morrissey didn't seem to be backing off for whatever fuckin' reason.

"Listen, mate. I'm...I'm not interested." That wasn't true, not entirely, but I'd just washed Johnny's come off me less than an hour ago and thought it might be a little much to bend over for another bloke already. I wasn't _that_ big a queer. I didn't think so anyways. "So just piss off."

"Johnny isn't interested in you," Morrissey mumbled, right against my ear. I couldn't stop myself from shivering and imagining what would happen if I just... _gave in,_ but I'd already made up my mind. "He's already had you once, hasn't he? So you should go home."

"Well...from the sounds of it, he's had you plenty of times so I don't see what all the bloody fuss is about if I'm just some...some -" Fuck. I wasn't about to call myself a fuckin' _groupie_ like some heartsick bird, pining for Johnny's dick, but I...I still didn't know what to make of last night, really. I wasn't sure I didn't just make it all up, high as I was, but I wasn't gonna have Morrissey making some big deal out of it, like it _meant_ something. I was surprised Johnny even remembered my bloody name this morning. "It didn't...It didn't bloody mean anything, right? So just fuck off already."

Morrissey was quiet for a long while, and I thought he'd finally let me go, that he'd finally get the fuck out of my face, and that I could get a minute alone to...to think things over, but no. No, the cunt decided to lick along the side of my neck and sink his teeth into my fuckin' jugular, like fuckin' Dracula himself had decided to pay me a visit. I kicked my leg back, trying to get away, but he held on, near crushing my ribcage in the process, all while my cock throbbed excitedly like I'd just been propositioned by some busty blonde.

A loud knock on the door was enough to startle him though, thank fuck, and I wrenched his arms off me, gasping and stumbling towards the sink just so I could hold myself upright. God, I was gonna make a mess of my jeans if I didn't calm down, and I wasn't about to walk around with my jumper tied round my waist in the middle of fuckin' February. 

"Noel? Are you still in there? Is everything alright?" Johnny called, and I glanced furiously over at Morrissey, who looked entirely unbothered by having just tried to possibly fuckin' kill me. 

" _No_ , it's fuckin' _not_ alright -"

Johnny immediately opened the door (it wasn't even fuckin' _locked_ , anyone could have walked in), and I hurried towards him, relieved that I could just get the fuck out of here, but of course Morrissey decided to storm past the both of us right that second. I stared blankly at him as he went around the corner before finally resting my head on Johnny's shoulder.

"What the _fuck_?" I asked, to no one in particular. Just to the world at large.

"Yeah…" Johnny tightly wrapped his arm around my shoulder and rubbed at my back, which felt weirdly comforting right then. It reminded me of the way mam would hold me after Da had a few too many. "What happened?"

"The cunt just up and bit the fuck out of me. Right on my fuckin' neck."

"That's new," Johnny replied, as if he had this conversation a lot, and I pulled myself upright to look at him for a moment. He had a resigned expression on his face, twisted up like he'd eaten a lemon. "Sorry about that. Mozzer is really unbelievable sometimes."

"Well, that's a bloody understatement." I paused to zip up my jeans and wipe the spit off my neck. I'd just piss later, I guess. "Kept saying I should go home and some other...weird shite. I don't fuckin' know."

Johnny nodded and gestured for me to follow him. We went out a side door of the diner and took a seat together on the curb, side by side, and I stared up at the dreary looking sky for a long while as Johnny tapped out a cigarette for each of us. 

"It's...it's not like Mozzer is like that all the time. He's…" Johnny lit both of the fags and passed one over to me. "He's incredible, really. Smart. Kind... _romantic_." Johnny paused to take a drag, and I couldn't look away from the way his mouth sucked on the filter, with his cheeks hollowed out and his head at a slight tilt. "I...I love him a lot. God, I really do."

I took a long drag off my own cigarette and tried to think of something to say, but nothing really came to mind. It felt like Johnny was in the middle of a conversation he'd had several times before, but I'd not been privvy to any of those prior to now and had just been bit by a rouge dandy. 

"Fuck, he just gets in these fuckin' _moods_ sometimes. I don't know. But I promise he's not like that, he's…" 

"Well, I'd say I'm not gonna take it personally an' all, but I'm pretty sure you need to give a bloke some warning if your bloody boyfriend is gonna be tryin' to come on to them in the toilets the next day."

"Yeah," Johnny mumbled, ashing his cigarette. "Look, where do you live again? Burnage?"

"Thereabouts, yeah." 

"Look, the next gig is probably gonna be delayed anyways. Let me drive you home, alright?"

I nodded and went to stand up, but Johnny pulled me back down by my elbow and stared intently at my neck for a few seconds. I didn't have any doubt he was staring at the place Morrissey had bit me, and I almost wanted to cover it up with my hand - to hide it, but Johnny reached over to brush his thumb against it and my dick was back at full attention all over again - god, I didn't want to let myself believe this could be more than just some one off thing, but I wanted Johnny again so fuckin' _bad_. I couldn't stop thinking about how it felt to be inside him last night...and I couldn't begin to imagine how some random girl would ever be able to make me come that hard.

"It's probably cause he thinks I'd not like it if you slept with him," Johnny said, and I tried to not think about that too much. It'd definitely not help what was happening in my jeans right then. "He thinks it'd put me off, that I'd be pissed if I wasn't the only one to have had you, but…" Johnny's eyes shifted over to mine, dark and purposeful, as he scraped his thumbnail down to the hem of my jumper.

I let out a quiet moan and quickly bit at the inside of my cheek to stop anymore from coming out, my face heating up with shame at how easy I was for him - we were sitting out back in the freezing cold by some goddamn rubbish bins for fuck's sake. "You, uh...well. You said your wife...is okay with all this. So is Moz... _okay_ with it?" I could hardly wrap my head around what I just said, but maybe Johnny could make sense of it.

"Oh, he says it's fine," Johnny replied, flicking his cigarette away. I did the same with mine and tentatively placed my hands on his shoulder, his leather jacket feeling almost as icy cold as the morning air. "Seems to always be forgetting that though, I swear."

Johnny pushed our mouths together then, wet and hot and focused, and I tugged hard at the collar of his jacket, opening up for his tongue way too fast. I was taking to being a queer rather well it seemed (...or maybe just a half queer, I'd not yet decided). I still didn't mind that this was a bloke kissing me though, and I especially didn't mind that it was Johnny. I'd even say I bloody liked it. 

I fell back on my elbows as Johnny started to climb into my lap, his hands tugging at my hair, but a loud cough interrupted us before we could do much else. "Hey...um, the guys are about ready to head out."

It was Andy again, the bassist. God, that cunt really knew how to get in the fuckin' way, didn't he? 

"Hey, Andy. Yeah, I'm, uh…I'm thinkin' I wanna drive Noel home. Tell everyone to wait up for a minute." Johnny paused as he got himself up and straightened out his jacket, looking deep in thought for a few moments. "Storm's gonna come through soon right?"

"Yeah, Ollie's thinkin' it'll blow through in about an hour or summat," Andy answered, pulling out his cigarettes. Johnny handed him his lighter without the slightest hesitation. "Think, uh...do you think you should be drivin' in all that?"

Johnny shrugged and finally decided to help me up, though I'd had plenty of time to stand up and had no idea why I'd been lounging on the curb this whole time. 

"Yeah. Mozzer had a bit of a…" Johnny waved his hand around and Andy nodded as if that made some kind of sense to him before handing the lighter back and taking a long drag. "So yeah, I wanna. Just tell them to wait a bit."

Andy made his way back inside while I followed Johnny to the bus. I decided to hang outside just in case Vlad wanted another bite of me, feeling hugely appreciative that Johnny had let me borrow one of his jackets before we headed out for breakfast. It was bloody freezing out, god. 

Johnny tumbled out with an armful of blankets and, after shoving them over to me, vaguely pointed at one of the vans, saying he'd go get the keys. "Fuckin' hurry it up then would you? I'm gonna freeze to death out here, bloody hell."

I'd hardly got the words out before Johnny was sauntering off towards the diner, and I went to hunker down between the vans to try and get out of the wind. It didn't really help, as I could still feel the tips of my fingers getting icy, but I was able to hide most of my face down in the pile of blankets. God, I fuckin' hated being from the North of England sometimes, and I especially hated its shitty fuckin' _weather_. 

A slight jingle had me popping my head up from the blankets to see Johnny waving the keys at me, and I hurriedly jumped into the passenger seat when he unlocked the doors. "Alright, get the map out and tell me where we're headin', yeah?" Johnny said once we'd gotten settled in, a few of the blankets over our laps like a couple of old nans - we'd tossed the rest into the back for now.

"Uh -"

"Glovebox - uh, yeah, that one. Open it up."

I shook out the road map and laid it out over my lap, but the only thing I knew about how to get back to Burnage was to catch Bus 25. Johnny stared down at it with me for a while, tracing the roads out with his finger, and finally decided we'd follow signs for the A6 until things started to look more familiar to me. Fair enough.

We headed down the road, the snow gusting down in huge bursts of howling wind. The Marvelettes crooned softly about staying away from some cunt named Bill - but, really, I didn't think anybody needed to be warned about that if the bloke's name was _Bill_ , like some goddamn yankee cowboy out of a hokey Western movie. Johnny was humming along though, without a care in the world, looking thrilled to be driving through this miserable weather at too early an hour in the morning. 

I must have dozed off at some point as when I next opened my eyes we were pulling into a service station. The snow and freezing rain pounded on the van relentlessly, probably chipping the paint off by the sound of it, and Johnny turned the ignition off with a heavy sigh. 

"We're gonna have to wait a bit. I'm supposed to catch up with everyone on our way up to Newcastle, but...s'ppose there's not much I can do about that right now."

I rubbed my eyes and pulled the blanket up a bit more, thinking things over. "I'll need to run in to use the loo. I never did get to piss earlier."

"Alright, go ahead. I'll fix us a cot in the back - d'you got money to ring your mam?" 

My pockets were still full up of all the shit I'd nicked yesterday, as well as Johnny's £10 quid, so I nodded and hurried myself out the van, blanket wrapped around me to make sure I'd not get myself turned to fuckin' mincemeat along the way. The snow was even worse than I'd imagined - it felt like tiny shards of glass were whipping across my face. 

I got inside without slipping on my arse though which I was feeling pretty fuckin' cheery about and went to go take an incredibly long piss. A glance in the mirror as I washed up made me wince a little - my hair was a fuckin' disaster, blown out to all sides, and there was now a massive love bite on the side of my neck. Most queers looked pretty fashionable, I thought, with expensive looking outfits and slicked back hairdos, but I looked fresh out the whorehouse. Fuck it though. I'd shagged _Johnny fuckin' Marr_ and now he was driving me home like I was...like I was his fuckin' boyfriend or something. Did Johnny treat all his one night stands so well? (…probably so, yeah.)

Huddling back into my blanket, I made my way out to the payphones, which were conveniently just across from the toilets, and rattled around in my pockets for some change. I wasn't even sure anyone was home but mam would probably be having a stroke if she didn't hear from me sometime soon. 

The line rang a few times before someone snatched the receiver up, and I heard a familiar wail in the background. Liam was nearby, crying his eyes out - the big fuckin' baby. "'Ello? Noel? That better be you, I swear."

It was Paul on the line. That meant mam definitely wasn't home, and Liam was definitely being a huge pain in the arse. "Yeah, sorry. What's up?"

"Liam is having a fit about you not comin' back last night. He didn't eat his supper and has been drivin' mam and me up the bloody wall. Where're you at?"

"Sorry, I'm about home I think...couldn't catch a bus back in time last night." Well, that was close enough to the truth anyway. "It'll be about an...about an hour or so, I guess. Let me talk to our kid, I'll calm him down."

Paul shouted for Liam and within the space of a few seconds the kid was yammering away in my ear, sounding like he'd suffered the biggest fuckin' injustice known to mankind. "Noely? Noely, where are you? You s-said you were gonna be home, and you didn't... _you didn't come home,_ and I w-waited for you, but you...you didn't c-come home -"

"Liam, I'm _fine_. I'll be back in an hour or so, christ. Now stop yer moanin'. Have you eaten yer breakfast?"

"N-no, but Noely you were meant to be home last night. And I stayed up, I...I stayed up all night! Why didn't you come back? Are...are you c-comin' back?"

I sighed and put another ten pence in, rubbing my neck. "I bloody well am, and I'm gonna fuckin' string you up by yer fuckin' skivvies if you don't stop that whingin'. Now go get Paul to get you a bloody bowl of cereal, and if you've not eaten it by the time I get back yer not gettin' walked home from school for a week."

Liam sniffed and muttered he would before shoving the phone back to Paul, and I listened to the kid stomp up the stairs before letting out another long sigh. 

"'S'alright, Noel. I'll bring something up to his room - I'm sure he'll eat. He has to be bloody starvin'."

"Fuckin' kid is gonna give me a nervous breakdown. Is mam alright?"

"Mam is fine. I'll need to head off though - an hour you said?"

"Something like that...talk soon then. Ta." 

"Ta-ra."

I hung up the phone and fished out the change, feeling ready to buy some paracetamol. Liam never did well if I was away for too long, and I didn't know how the kid would handle me moving out soon. I was 18 already - and I didn't plan on sharing a bloody room with him for the rest of my fuckin' life, that was for sure. 

I made my way over to the coolers and stuffed a few bottles of beer in the blanket before making my way back out to the van - the old cunt behind the counter was dead asleep and didn't seem likely to wake up anytime soon. It was a challenge not to drop them while trying to wrench the door open, but I was able to inch my way back to the van without further incident. I toed my shoes off up front then crawled my way into the back of the van. Johnny had made a small cot for us, squeezed in-between the stacks of equipment, and with the two of us pressed together it didn't seem too chilly.

"Here y'are. Brought us something to drink, thought it might help," I said as I added my blankets to the pile already on us. Johnny was buried in them up to his bloody chin, and it made me want to kiss the slight point of his nose like a proper pouf.

"Cheers, mate," Johnny replied as he wrenched off the top of his. He swallowed most of it in one go, and I sipped slowly at my own. "Fuck this awful weather. It's such utter shite, innit?"

"Yeah...sounds about right." I leaned myself back against an amp and rolled the bottle between my fingers, absently scratching my nails against the label. "Think you'll be able to meet up with everyone in Newcastle still?"

"Unless they manage to find another guitarist, I don't think I'm gonna have to worry too much about that. They can't really do a show without me, so," Johnny said, pressing himself against my shoulder. I tensed at first, a bit uncertain about what I should do, but I soon found my arm wrapping around his shoulder, dragging him a little closer - for warmth and all. "Yer mam okay?"

"Dunno. Just me brothers are home."

Johnny glanced up with a curious look on his face, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth like he was already tipsy or just far too excited to be freezing in the back of a van with some bloody layabout from Burnage. "You've got siblings?"

"Uh...yeah. Paul, he's the eldest - a year older, and Liam. He's 13, though he acts about 5, I'd say," I replied, absently threading my fingers through Johnny's hair. "You?"

"I've a sister, Claire, and a brother, Ian. She's 19, and he's, uh...about 11 now, I think." Johnny finished off his beer and dropped the bottle off to the side, yanking the blankets up again. I almost laughed when he threaded our legs together - just like when we'd been sitting together last night. It reminded me of how close Liam liked to be all the time, constantly in my lap or sat right next to me even when I'm trying to play the guitar. "They're me best friends in the whole world. I dunno what I'd do without them."

"Can't say I feel the same, really. I'm always stuck takin' care of Liam 'cause mam is workin' all the bloody time. I hate it," I replied after a bit. I sat my own beer down and joined Johnny further under the blankets. "Da is a bloody drunkard and Paul's always fuckin' off, the cunt." 

"Sorry to hear it," Johnny said, squeezing my hand, and I about said the same for having spilled out my entire life story to him like a big fuckin' girl. God. Why would one of the best bloody guitarists in the whole of England give a shit about me or my Da? Must be more tired than I thought. 

I scooted down into the cot more, off the amp, and Johnny slid along with me, giggling a little. "Whats'it?" I mumbled, turning to look at him. He still had a bit of eyeliner smudged in the corner of his eyes, and I was tempted to rub it away with my thumb. 

"Mm, well. We were interrupted earlier weren't we? Don't think anyone's liable to walk in on us here, so..." 

I didn't need any more convincing than that and hurriedly pushed our lips together - a bit too roughly probably, but Johnny didn't seem to mind. I was on top of him soon enough, sucking his bottom lip between mine as our hips rocked together. Neither of us was hard yet, but I sensed that was about to change with the way Johnny was restlessly moving underneath me, his bare feet digging into the back of my calves as he clung onto me. 

I was just about as antsy when Johnny dipped down to nip at my neck, right over the bruise Morrissey had left earlier, making a loud moan slip out of me from how...how fuckin' _raw_ it felt, like prodding an open wound or picking at a day old scab.

"I fuckin' can't...can't believe Moz fuckin'... _bit_ you and didn't think it'd turn me right the fuck on." 

"Well…'m glad you bloody like it so much, I sure...sure as fuck _don_ ' _t_." The last word came out a bit strained as Johnny started to pull the skin between his teeth, not all that hard, really, but enough that I could feel it, and it about made me come right then and there. " _Fuck_."

We shifted back onto our sides as Johnny got our jeans pulled down, knocking some shit out of my pockets along the way - but I didn't really care. I didn't care about anything other than the way Johnny was intently sucking on my tongue, like he was getting high off it. 

"Lie on yer back," Johnny whispered, shoving the blankets down. I immediately started to shiver, but Johnny rubbed my arms to help warm me back up. "You, uh - you ever had a bloke suck you off before?"

I near choked at the overwhelming thought of _anyone_ sucking me off and tried to think of something to say that didn't make me sound like some great big virgin. "I - I've, I've not really…"

"'S'okay, just...keep still, yeah? Try, uh - try to not to move yer hips too much." Johnny mumbled most of that into my neck, his tongue prodding the bruise every so often, and I felt my cock excitedly thump against my stomach each time, dribbling precome even though he hadn't even touched me yet. Fuck, I should have wanked in the bog or something. This wasn't gonna last long at all if I was already this worked up. 

Johnny settled himself down between my legs, with the blankets tugged up to his shoulders to keep him from getting too cold, and I thought I could taste blood from how hard I was biting my lip, my heart hammering at fuckin' triple speed as Johnny snaked his hands under my shirt. His hands were a little cold, but that changed quickly enough as he burrowed his fingers into my armpits. I squirmed a little, more than a bit ticklish there, but I got used to the sensation quickly enough. Johnny pressed a few light kisses against my hip before he burrowed his face right into my pubic hair, breathing in with a loud sigh, his hips shifting under the blankets all the while like he was getting off on it. I wasn't really sure what to make of it, but my dick definitely seemed interested - and I wasn't about to tell him to stop. 

After a while, Johnny rested his cheek against my hip, staring up at me as he worked his hands across my chest again and again - sometimes he'd just use his fingertips and other times he'd use the flat of his palm, but he continously paused to flick at my nipples, which were far more sensitive than I ever fuckin' realized. Christ.

"Feel good?" Johnny asked, his voice hoarse, and I nodded, almost feeling out of breath. Johnny smiled up at me and giggled, but before I could ask what the fuck he was laughing at he'd licked a line straight up the side of my dick. I almost fuckin' screamed with how good it felt - fuck, and maybe I actually _did_ , as I was fuckin' well surprised that _anything_ could feel that good other than a bump or two of coke up my nose.

I took a minute to breathe as Johnny began to jerk me off, his hand a loose circle as it dragged my foreskin up...and down, up and down. I squeezed my eyes shut, so I'd at least not have to see Johnny grinning up at me the whole time, but that just made the light touch of his hand feel even more intense. It was...it was somehow too much but also not nearly enough, and I thought I might tear my hair out if Johnny didn't _do_ something.

"Johnny...Johnny, _please._ I'm - I fuckin' need you to hurry it up, I'm gonna fuckin' _lose it_."

Johnny sighed, right over the head of my cock, and my back bowed straight off the makeshift cot. My foreskin had pulled back by now and everything felt way too sensitive down there. "You're really somethin' else, Noely - god, you're fuckin' _gorgeous_ , y'are."

I sucked in air through my nose and shifted a little, suddenly feeling stifling hot in the chill of the van. "Just...just bloody well get on with it. Not a bloody bird, don't need to be preened -"

The rest of my thoughts turned into nothing but static as Johnny wrapped his lips around my cock. I felt my thighs tense around his shoulders, felt my feet kick and my arms flail, but it was so _hot_ and so _wet_ \- jesus _fuck_. It was so _good_. 

Johnny gave a light suck before flicking his tongue lightly around my slit, digging into the spot a little before he swallowed, and I was sure I was gonna come. No, I was absolutely gonna come, but Johnny's hand was suddenly around the base of my dick, and I...I _couldn't_ come - and I didn't know if the tears that sprang out of me were from relief or frustration. Both, probably.

"Oh, _fuck_. Oh fuck, fuck. _Johnny_ -"

"Shh, shh." Johnny squeezed my hip with his other hand, but I was fucking flying - I was somewhere out over the clouds again, far above the Earth. The only thing I could make sense of was how good Johnny's mouth felt, and how much I absolutely never wanted him to stop, ever. 

Except Johnny _did_ stop, the absolute fuckin' bastard. He pulled back and started to rub his nose over my scrotum, humming in a way that made my skin prickle. My hands shot out to pull Johnny back, not interested in anything other than coming _right_ that fuckin' second, but Johnny just pinned my wrists down on either side of me, clicked his tongue at me like my mam would when I didn't do the washing up, and I couldn't begin to stop the embarrassing noise that came out of me - like a slight sob. 

"Just fuckin' - _please_ , please, Johnny. I...I gotta fuckin' _come_." 

"Keep your hands down then," Johnny mumbled, sucking at a spot on my balls that made me see stars. I nodded, probably a little fuckin' frantically all things considered - my head about bounced off the amp behind me - and Johnny went back to grabbing the base of my cock while I clutched at the blankets. 

After a few more moments of agonizing stillness, Johnny's mouth slowly slid down on my dick again, this time going down about halfway. I kicked a little but managed to keep my hands to myself somehow, and then Johnny _kept going_. I could feel - I could feel the back of his throat, and the hand around my dick suddenly didn't fuckin' matter. Nothing fuckin' mattered as I was _coming_ , and it was like I could feel each spurt shooting out of me - and, _fuck_ , Johnny was _swallowing it_. He was fuckin' swallowing it down and just looking up at me like he was _happy_ about it. _Fuck_.

I squeezed my eyes shut, blinked them open, and shuddered a few times as I finally emptied out. Everything felt overwhelming for a moment - the sound of the freezing rain and snow on the top of the van, the feel of the blankets twisted around my fingers, the weight of Johnny between my legs - but I couldn't do anything other than lie there and stare at the ceiling for a while.

Johnny scooted himself to lie on top of me, and I could hardly even look at him - god, his mouth was red and swollen, and _sore_ looking, and it was too fucking intense to think it was all because he'd just sucked me off. I briefly tried to picture Diane doing something like this to me, but it...it wouldn't have been this good, I hardly liked her trying to jerk me off, had stopped her halfway through. God, it was no wonder she'd left me, really. 

"That was...that was so fuckin' good, Noel. I -" Johnny pulled at my chin until I _had_ to look at him, and I almost wanted to shut my eyes. It felt like he could hear my every thought or something. "I, uh - I really am your first, huh? You've not…"

"I _have_. I bloody well have, come off it," I snapped, trying to roll over, trying to keep Johnny from knowing just how fuckin' pathetic I was, god - the 18 year old drop out was a fuckin' _virgin_. Up until last night anyways. Fuckin' _hilarious_. 

"Hey, hey - no. It's alright, I, uh. I just didn't really...well." Johnny had wrapped his arms around me, and I hid my face into his shoulder, trying to ignore the urge to cry like a big bleedin' girl. But my Da had been right about me all along, hadn't he? He had me all figured out from the start. "Noel, s'alright. It's okay. I'd have, uh - maybe slowed things down a bit is all."

"I'm not some sniveling... _girl_ , okay? Just _fuck off_ ," I groused, but my arms had wrapped themselves around Johnny and was holding him way too tight. I then realized that Johnny's erection was shoving into my hip, and that he'd not even come. God, I was really making a fuckin' mess of this. "You've...you've not -"

"Don't worry about it, 's alright," Johnny said, trying to angle himself away from me, but I grabbed onto his arse and grinded our hips together. Johnny's grip on me tightened, just about cutting my air off, but I continued to rock myself against him, shoving my hand down between his legs and over the swell of his arse to touch that spot in between - the one that always made me come the hardest. " _Fuck_ \- oh, _fuck_ -"

Johnny's thighs clamped around my wrist as his head snapped back, letting out an almost pained sound as he began to come. I held on until he slumped against me, his hips twitching every few seconds in the afterglow. I almost didn't want to let go, but Johnny said he needed to get something to clean us up, which was a pretty good idea, honestly. I was tired of having dry come all over me at this point.

Once we were back under the blankets, I almost immediately fell asleep, already not used to being up so early in the day, and only woke up when a pile of cables dropped onto my head. Johnny was back in the driver's seat, and, from the sounds of it, the storm had eased up. 

After I got my jeans buttoned, and my pockets stuffed with all my stolen goods, I tiredly made my way up to the front and tugged on my shoes. We were just about to enter Burnage, and I took a few minutes to point out where I lived. The Supremes were quietly on in the background, and Johnny was tapping along on the steering wheel- and, god, I just wanted to tell him to keep driving, to not stop. To take me all the way to Newcastle, but I knew that wasn't ever gonna be a thing. Johnny had plenty of other people to fill my spot, and my dream to just get the fuck out of here didn't matter to him - why would _Johnny Marr_ give a shit about me? He didn't, he cared about his band and his wife and Morrissey, and I needed to pull my head out my arse.

My stomach twisted up as Johnny rounded the corner, and I finally saw the familiar rickety fence and the familiar rickety house where I belonged. I nodded at Johnny when he parked the van, as I was too much of a fuckin' coward to say goodbye, but paused when I felt Johnny tug at my arm and push a pen into my hand. 

"Here, gimme yer number. I'll give you a ring sometime, yeah?" Johnny said, and I almost wanted to let myself believe it. He shoved an old receipt at me, gesturing for me to hurry up, and I shakily scribbled it down.

I went to finally let myself out only to see Johnny hurriedly come around the van to open the door for me. I stared at him for a moment, more then a bit fuckin' suspicious, but I let him help me out and walk me up to the door. Paul yanked it open with a murderous look on his face, and I almost laughed at how surreal everything felt right then. 

"You're finally home, are you? Who's this then?" Paul asked, but before I could answer Liam came scrambling out barefooted, crashing into me at full speed with a loud yell of excitement. I sighed and wrapped my arms around him to say hello. 

"This is, uh...Johnny Marr, from The Smiths? He, uh - drove me home…Johnny, this is Paul. Paul, Johnny."

Paul nodded and walked back into the house, looking exhausted, and I tapped Liam on the shoulder, telling him to be polite. "'M Liam," is all he mumbled in response, but I decided to let it go. It was better than nothing, so. 

Johnny smiled at the both of us though before he squeezed my shoulder and pressed a light kiss to my cheek. Liam glared at him but didn't say anything thankfully - he was always extra pissy when I brought girls home, and that didn't seem to change with me now bringing blokes home. "We'll talk soon then, alright? 

"Yeah...talk soon," I replied, feeling a strange twist in my stomach. Johnny gave me one last pat on the shoulder and walked back to the van - and, despite the circumstances, I really believed we'd see each other again. Soon.


	3. Interlude (Johnny/Morrissey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Johnny/Morrissey vignette, as part of an addendum to Chapter 2. Johnny/Noel is only referenced here, so you may skip over this if this doesn't interest you. It is not plot pertinent in any way - it is just me missing writing these two cause I'm a big sap. I am still in the middle of writing another proper chapter, so. No worries if this isn't your scene.
> 
> Johnny's POV

I hurried my way onto the bus and left Noel to fend for himself for a few minutes - he didn't want to follow me in, and I didn't really blame him all things considered, though it was fuckin' _freezing_ out, christ. 

As I didn't have much time, I hurried to Morrissey's bunk and tugged the curtain back some. No doubt he was in too much of a mood to talk right then, but I also couldn't find it in myself to give a shit when he'd just decided to take a bite out of Noel's neck for no bloody reason.

"Mozzer?" I murmured, resting my hand on his shoulder. He was faced away from me, wrapped up tight in his favorite tattered quilt, with all but a tuft of his hair sticking out. The quilt was one his nan gave him ages ago, and he frequently buried himself in it when he was upset. "I know yer not sleepin'. C'mon."

Morrissey huffed but otherwise stayed quiet so I clambered in on top of him, boots and all, and cackled as he started to flail angrily underneath me. " _Johnny_ -"

"Steven."

"Don't you start," Morrissey snapped, and I rested my head against his own, sighing. It didn't take long for the tension in him to disappear, it never did when we were this close, and he rolled himself onto his back so we were nose to nose. "My apologies. I...That wasn't kind of me, was it? Mm...barbaric, really."

"It wasn't yer best moment, no...but it got him real hot under the collar. I got to snog him out back after you stormed out an' all, so..." I gently bumped our foreheads together and wiggled my arms around him. All I could see right then was the blue of his eyes, and in them was everything I loved most in the world - his brilliant mind was always so apparent in their shine, and it was always so eerily in tune with my own. "That was so fuckin' hot though, Mozzer. God, you did a bloody number on him. Gotta get ye to leave one on me like that."

"You're insatiable," Morrissey sighed. His breath smelled of that posh tea he liked to drink in the morning and something a little sweet. I couldn't stop myself from kissing him, I never fuckin' could it seemed - but I just had to taste him and see if I could find out what it was. He was slow to kiss back at first, but he soon wriggled his arms out from the blanket enough to grab at my jacket, humming quietly to himself.

I'd have been glad to stay there, to fall right back asleep against his shoulder, but Noel was outside, still freezing and likely waiting to tell me _all_ about it. The kid never missed a chance to bitch about something, yet I couldn't stop myself from finding it endlessly endearing - he was a fuckin' riot, honestly, and I knew I'd be missing him when he was gone.

"I gotta head out, yeah? Just for a bit. Gonna drive the kid home 'cause of, uh...everything," I said, my voice a bit rough. Morrissey nodded, curt and indifferent, so I took a second to press our lips together again, just to make him remember that I loved him, just as much as I did Angie - and that I'd loved him since I knocked on his door and told him to be in my stupid fuckin' band. "So...are y'ever gonna learn to share? Huh?"

"No."

I laughed, not the slightest bit surprised, and reluctantly pulled myself out of the bunk, giving his hand one last squeeze. "I'll see you tonight then. Try not to bite anymore fit blokes while I'm gone, yeah?"

"I don't make promises I can't keep, Johnny," Morrissey said with that usual touch of arrogance, his smile lingering for a while in thought. "Though I suppose if you come round tonight...I could consider it."

"I'll be round then," I answered, feeling immensely glad to see him in better spirits again. "As soon as I'm back, I promise I'll be round."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello! Here is a chapter of this that I wrote back in November. I've just finished up writing something with Jeevey so I figured it was time to swing back around to this while I had the energy. 
> 
> Notes: Liam is 13 here, and there is some sexual tension between him and Noel.

Liam still hadn't eaten, of course, so that meant I had to make tea before anything else. The kid was old enough to feed himself, or at least heat up something that mam made before work, but if I was home he'd insist on _me_ cooking for him - as if it made any bloody difference at all. 

"Noel, _Noely_ -"

"Ham toastie, I know, Liam. I'm on it, christ," I grumbled as I shrugged off Johnny's jacket and carefully hung it up. I had wondered why he'd not asked for it back, but I was glad to have it, honestly. It was way warmer than any of the ones I owned - and, well, it smelled a lot like him (Fuck me, that was probably the queerest thing I'd _ever_ thought.)

"No, no I want beans on toast," Liam said, already trying to poke through my pockets. I waved him off and tiredly made my way to the kitchen to get started, with Liam trotting along behind me talking a mile a minute.

Beans on toast definitely wouldn't be enough, that was for sure. The kid would just be hungry again in a few hours, especially with how little he'd eaten today, and so I dug through the fridge to pull out a pack of rashers. Not only could I serve them up on the side, but I could also drain the fat into the beans. 

Liam got the bread and butter out as he went on about his day. Apparently he was gonna outplay Colin Bell here soon because he'd scored three whole goals all on his own during phys-ed. I almost laughed but reigned it in at the last second, knowing he'd be furious at me, and patted his shoulder instead. He was such a cocky little gobshite.

When he'd finished up the toast, I had him put the rashers on the hob for me while I hunted down the tin opener. It had somehow ended up in a random junk drawer, which I strongly suspected was due to Paul not paying attention to what he was bloody doing, like always. Just how hard was it to put shit away where it _belonged_?

"...and I told Mick that I'd _definitely_ snogged his stupid bird, but then -"

"Flip them over, Liam. They're gonna burn," I mumbled, shaking the beans out into a pot. "The edges are all curled."

"But _then_ , then Jen said she'd never snog some…some _dirty bog trotter_ like me," Liam continued, his voice sharpening at the end to really get his point across. I sighed and impatiently gestured towards the pan again, relieved when he finally dug the spatula in. Mam be so pissed if we burned something. "That stupid bint. I was doing _her_ a favor, y'know what I mean? But then Mick tried to..."

Liam paused and swung his fists in front of him without letting go of the spatula, flinging grease everywhere all while looking like a really pissed off chimp. He looked at me for confirmation of some kind, who knew what for, and I nodded encouragingly as the beans began to boil. "The cunt tried to have a go at me, he did! Showed that fucker I ain't afraid of _nish_ though." 

When the rashers were done, I got everything divvied out for us, with extra beans on Liam's plate and a few more rashers on mine. Liam poured out two glasses of milk then helped me carry everything to the living room. I flipped on the TV to find us some football to watch, as the late night talk shows weren't on yet, and the quiz shows didn't keep Liam's attention.

Liam quieted down after a while, distracted by his first real meal of the day, but I could feel him glancing over at me every few minutes - probably because of the inexplicably huge bruise on my neck. Johnny had made sure the mark he left on me could be seen from a bloody mile away, seemingly.

"Noel, what's that? S'that a love bite?" Liam asked, leaning in curiously. I pushed him back and told him to mind his own business, but I knew that wouldn't deter him in the slightest. "Who's it from? Is it from _Diane_? I thought she broke up with you 'cause you were a cunt."

" _Shut it,_ " I snapped, ready to throttle him. He was such a little shit sometimes, god. "It was just some stupid bird I met last night at the gig, alright? Now leave off it."

There was a few minutes of blessed silence before Liam suddenly jabbed his finger right into it, trying to twist the skin, and my body curled in on itself from the intensity of the arousal that shot through me - it was like the pain had a direct line to my dick or something. 

"Just what the _fuck_ are you doing?" I snapped, slamming my plate down onto the coffee table so hard it almost cracked. 

"I-I didn't mean to!" Liam shouted, his eyes all big and innocent because he knew it usually got him out of trouble most times. "I'm sorry, Noely."

"Just eat your fuckin' supper and keep your hands to yourself, or else I'm gonna fuckin' break 'em, yeah?" 

Liam sulked at me, mumbling to himself about how much of an arsehole I was, and angrily shoved his food around his plate. I took a deep breath, adjusted my dick so it wasn't pressing right against my zipper, and then focused on anything but the way my hands shook. 

After a few more goals Liam had scooted closer again. There was a little hitch in his breath that made me want to tell him to stay away, to just leave me alone already, but somehow I couldn't get the words out. My whole body felt like a raw nerve ending, strung tight and taut as a bow string, and I couldn't stop the sound that slipped out of me as Liam slowly pressed his lips to the spot, giving it a gentle kiss. He was much more careful with it than before, almost reverent, as he pulled back with an expectant look on his face.

"Noely? 'S…'s that better?"

I finally snapped out of my stupor and shoved myself off the couch, near falling over as I rushed to the stairs. "I'm…I'm going up for a shower. Don't, uh… don't forget to do the washing up an' all."

Liam groaned in protest, but I ignored it and hurriedly made my way to the bathroom. I had to get in the shower before I made a fucking mess of myself, and as I was the one that did most of the laundry in this house I wasn't about to spend an afternoon scrubbing come out of my favorite pair of jeans. 

I shut and locked the door behind me before wrenching on the faucet, almost stepping in fully dressed before I remembered to strip. The warm water felt incredible after so many hours outside in the freezing wind and torrential snow, and I arched up into it as my hand slipped down my chest, down through the matted hair and around the base of my dick. I squeezed it a little, like Johnny had, and sighed as the pressure helped to ease back my need to come.

A bit more relaxed, I sank down onto my arse and leaned against the back of the tub. I started to stroke myself, slow and steady, but it wasn't gonna help me hold off for too long. All I could picture was Johnny between my legs earlier - and the way his arse felt around my cock last night. Wet and hot and _warm_ , so bloody warm. _Fuck_. I had to come. I _had_ to come, I couldn't fuckin' _not_.

My hips snapped up as I did, come spurting out over my hand only to be washed away by the shower. I almost screamed from how good it felt but managed to swallow it back somehow, just a few low grunts slipping out as I squeezed myself dry. I almost wondered if I could have gotten hard again, but I did need to actually get myself cleaned up at some point. 

Then Liam was knocking on the door, wanting to get ready for bed, and I reluctantly dragged myself out the tub to dry off. Once I fumbled a towel around myself, I got the door open and walked over to our room without saying anything to him. I knew the second my back was turned he would be rooting through my shit, looking for anything he could pawn off to his little mates at school, but I was desperate for a lie down at this point.

I tugged on some sleep shorts and an old school shirt of mine before crawling into bed. The sheets definitely smelled of my brother, though that was hardly surprising to me anymore. He was always in my bed whenever he got the chance, for any number of stupid reasons. It used to be nightmares. Nowadays it was when he got upset. He was way too old to be doing it at this point, but that certainly didn't stop him.

I was nearly asleep when I heard him come stumbling in, carelessly shuffling around. I heard the nightstand by his bed open and shut so he'd definitely nicked something, the little shit, then, sure enough, he yanked the covers of my bed back and crawled in. God. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, he had his own bed less than a foot away, just the same as mine in every way, but Liam would just complain until I gave in anyways. 

I turned to lie on my back and let him scoot closer, with my arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and shut my eyes again, enjoying the warmth. Liam was like a little space heater, one that kicked and mumbled in his sleep a lot, but still. It was nice to have him draped over me during the colder months (though I had to drag a fan in here during the summer to keep me from sweating to death).

He flung a leg over mine and anxiously hummed a little under his breath. He was clearly dying to ask me something about Johnny - or the bruise on my neck - but I didn't really want to talk about either. I just...I still wasn't sure if I was queer, or if I just really liked Johnny in particular, so I preferred just to ignore it all for now.

When I stayed quiet, Liam started to trace along the letters on my shirt, sometimes fiddling with a loose thread here and there. I tried to pet his hair to help calm him down, but he just huffed at me. I clearly wasn't going to be able to get out of this.

"What'sit then?" I finally said, my voice thunderously loud in the silence of our little room.

"Was, hm...did Johnny…?" Liam paused, and I bit the inside of my cheek in frustration. I knew he'd worked it all out already. He was an idiot most times but surprisingly keen when he wanted to be. "S'alright...if he did...and if you did."

I could hardly stop myself from laughing. Liam had loathed all my girlfriends. I had no idea why, but if I tried to bring a bird over Liam would always throw a fit. Of course, Johnny was a bloke, but that wouldn't matter to Liam. He'd bug me about it just the same. "Not exactly, no, but - well. Fuck, I don't know."

I grunted unhappily as Liam rolled me over so we were face to face, his eyes so close to mine I could feel his eyelashes rubbing against me. "Just _tell_ me already," Liam said. "I wanna know."

"What's there to bloody tell?" I replied, ignoring the warmth bubbling in my stomach as I thought about Johnny again. "So I shagged him. What'sit matter?"

Liam let out a soft noise of surprise and somehow scooted closer, locking our knees together. "You shagged _Johnny Marr_? The bloke yer on about all the time? The one on the telly?"

"Yeah, last night...but then. Well, I had a bit of a run in with his mate this morning, and uh...he wasn't pleased about it," I explained, shrugging. Liam had no idea who Morrissey was and likely didn't care so I didn't bother to bring that up. "He tried to have a go with me, too...to piss Johnny off, I think, but I wasn't having it."

"Why not?" Liam asked, as if he was actually confused as to why I might not want to shag a guy in the toilets. "Was he fit?"

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna...shag just anyone," I mumbled. Liam snorted, and I reached to flick his ear for being a dick. 

"But y'fucked Diane didn't ya?" Liam replied, grinning wider. I should've told him to piss off, to stop being such a nosy arse, but somehow I just couldn't get myself to say it. "Y'did...right?"

"Y-yeah," I mumbled. I knew my stupid fuckin' stutter was giving me away, but I couldn't have my own brother slagging me off about my ex. "I told ye I did, leave off it."

Liam's silence was enough to make me try to roll away, but he just held on and ended up on top of me, squinting down at me like he could hear the inside of my head. I wouldn't be surprised if he could at this point, christ. "Why're ye lyin', Noely?" Liam asked, his brows scrunching together with annoyance. 

"'Cause it's not your bloody business, issit? Yer me brother, not...not my missus, right? So just shut up about it already," I replied, trying to shove him off me, but Liam wouldn't budge. He just held on and pressed me harder into the mattress. "Yer fuckin' crushing me, Liam. Get _off_."

"Not until ye tell me why yer lyin'," Liam said, and I wanted to strangle him for being so fucking stubborn, god. I was just too _tired_ for all this. 

"Fine! _Fine._ I've not shagged a bird before, alright? Especially not Diane, that...slag. Now shove off already," I hissed, my fists clenching up as embarrassment rushed through me. Liam reluctantly flopped down next to me but kept his leg propped on me as if he couldn't let go entirely. "Yer a fuckin' cunt. I'm not walkin' you back from school for a fuckin' _month_."

Liam just pulled the blankets up and yawned. I waited for him to start taunting me about it, for him to rub it in, that I was a fuckin' tosser, but he just stayed quiet. I wanted a fight, was ready for one - anything to not have to think about how Johnny was my first, and how much I liked it that way.

"I think I wanna snog a boy, too," Liam said after a while, startling me from my thoughts. I looked over at him, still fuckin' furious, but Liam's eyes were shut, his breathing slow and deep. I could tell he was about to nod off. "Sounds fun, y'know? 'Cept blokes don't have tits to feel up while ye kiss 'em."

"Like you've ever felt a bird up," I mumbled, rubbing hard at my eyes. The last thing I needed was to start crying like a fuckin' girl. 

"I 'ave! I felt up Lisa Sadler - "

"You've nowt felt up no bloody Lisa Sadler, she's a third year, you cunt."

"I did! At Paulie's house, she let me. Just a few weeks ago," Liam argued, his tired eyes blinking open to glare at me. "She was off her face though. I think she thought I might've been 'er boyfriend or summat."

I snorted and tried to imagine that for a minute. Lisa all drunk, with her shirt hiked up, and Liam clumsily squeezing her tit. That must've been hysterical. Liam always did have a way with girls though. When he was younger, he'd run around the school yard and give girls kisses in exchange for sweets. He'd bring them all home half melted in his pocket so he could share them with me - except for the caramels. Those were his favorites. 

Soft snores let me know Liam had drifted off though, and I reached across to lace our fingers together, sighing. 


End file.
